


I'm glad to say that we've met (I'm sad to say that the circumstances weren't on our side)

by BelleRaev



Category: Dark Angel, Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark Angel Fusion, Brother Feels, Even though he's human and squishy, F/M, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Pacific Rim Kink Meme, Raleigh is a X5 series transgenic, Story starts with Kid Raleigh & Teenage Yancy, Tags will be updated as they become relevant, Yancy is the best big brother ever, based on a prompt, so are a bunch of people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 01:45:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1248121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelleRaev/pseuds/BelleRaev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being an escaped genetically engineered super-soldier is a pain in the ass, add kaijus and it becomes a clusterfuck - at least that's what his new human brother says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'ed. Wouldn't mind one tbh. 
> 
> WIP fill for this prompt: 
> 
> Manticore is conducting their genetic perfect soldiers research and training and a group of the child soldiers, known as the X5 series escape just like it happens in the show. Except, instead of The Pulse happening, K-Day happens. In the resulting chaos of the Kaiju attack the X5 kids are able to hide out in the real world. One of the X5 kids is Raleigh, who is eventually found by the Beckets and taken to their home in Alaska. Yancy is protective of his new younger brother and eventually Raleigh tells him the full truth that not even their parents know. Yancy is now even more protective of his kid brother.
> 
> How the events of Pacific Rim play out is totally up to the writer. I just really wanna see Raleigh as an escaped X5, dealing with the world after K-Day, joining the PPDC, and then loosing his brother (or maybe Yancy lives somehow?) and then finding his way to the Hong Kong shatterdome while looking out for his brothers and sisters and dodging Manticore.
> 
> All the cookies in the world for:  
> \+ Mako seeing Raleigh's memories of Manticore in the drift and vowing to put the hurt on anyone trying to hurt Raleigh again.  
> \+ Yancy wanted to join the PPDC not to fight Kaiju, but to get some measure of protection for Raleigh. And it worked. But maybe it didn't?  
> \+ Raleigh forgets he's more than human sometimes and slips in the funniest ways that flusters other people.
> 
> -
> 
> I dunno what the pairings are yet, I ship everyone with everyone else. If this ends up Yancy lives it will probably be Yancy/Chuck, Raleigh/Mako, if not then... I dunno.

001\. escape from manticore. 05/2008

His breath is labored and swallowing the thick air feels more of a chore than he’s ever remembered. It wasn’t lack of oxygen that caused the branches leading to his lungs to constrict, it couldn’t be - Transgenics were made to withstand such things, but rather fear and anxiety. 

He was trying very hard not to think of anything else but the mission but he was still a boy and he couldn’t help being scared. 

His foot catches on a small broken branch, or maybe an oversized twig, and he curses softly under his breath. It hindered his movement, only for a few seconds but those seconds could make the difference between freedom and a cage. 

Endless amount of grace couldn’t prevent the sound of leaves crushing beneath his bare feet as he frees himself of the entanglement. 

The sound drew the attention of a bright light through the trees a few feet away and he instantly began moving again. That was too much time wasted than he needed. 

A shot rang through the air and it fueled his fire. He picked up speed, no longer as cautious about being heard because of the flurry of movement behind him. He lost track of his siblings the minute that they hit the thick forest, it was safer that way, so he knew for sure that it was a guard that picked up his trail. 

That stupid branch. 

He didn’t dare look back, focusing instead on his path and swerving when needed so that he didn’t collide with the trees. They weren’t allowed into these woods and he was beginning to wonder if he was going in circles because it shouldn’t have taken this long to find his way - though he stopped counting the seconds that ticked by from the moment that he entered, the forest couldn’t actually be that large. 

Another shot echoed , sounding as if it came from some feet in front of him and he swerved right without a second thought , callous feet digging through the muddy ground at a rapid pace and picking up debris with each step. He didn’t mind the pain, in fact he barely felt it and instead focused on the path in front of him. 

Despite the darkness that was exacerbated by the thickness of the foliage his vision was superb, compliments of MANTICORE, and he spotted the tall man with dark fatigues before being made out. 

He attacked with quick successions, a kick to the back of knee to throw him down then an uppercut as he swiped the rifle and swung it against the soldier’s head all within a few seconds. His speed was another MANTICORE given trait and right now he was going to use it against them. 

He didn’t spare a second glance to the fallen body of the soldier as he continued on to what he assumed was his way out and threw the gun to the ground, he didn’t need the extra weight nor anything occupying his hands since he excelled at hand-to-hand combat. 

The tall wall came into view just as his breathing started to mirror the panic that he felt and though he heard shouts all around him, the boy made a run for it. 

He leapt, feet landing halfway up the wall thanks to his enhanced capacities and he scaled it in a way that no human could fathom. Seconds later and he was jumping off of the wall and landing into a crouch on the gravel beneath. 

This was it, he was out of the woods and into the open road and now had an actual tangible chance of freedom. 

His knees wobbled from the impact of hitting the ground as he sprung back up, but it was completely ignored as once again he ran. 

*

He’s on a train when he finally starts to think. As in literally on a train. He sits with his legs crossed in front of him and his arms planted firmly at his sides to provide balance as he stares out into the ‘real’ world. 

They were speeding to a town that he didn’t bother finding the name of because he was too busing climbing the metal sides of the train to reach the rooftop. 

It’s here that he finally allows himself to breathe properly. Deep lung full gulps of air that he exhaled through his nose as he began to wonder about his siblings. They went separate ways in the forest to make it easier to evade capture but there was never a stable plan on where to meet afterwards. 

He wasn’t even sure whether or not anyone else made it out besides him. He hadn’t run into anyone while tearing through the pavement and hijacking a ride on this train so there really was no telling. 

The only thing that he could do at this point was hope and so he searched for a sliver and found it. He held on tightly to the faith that they made it out and silently vowed that once able, that he would find a way to search for them. Until then, he needed to take the time to breathe in the smell of his escape. 

*

When he finally descends the train it’s because he is hungry beyond reason. He had been trying to hold off for as long as he could in order to put as much distance as he could between himself and the Manticore base and now he’s reached the point where exhaustion was starting to kick in. 

His small body was able to withstand more than humans but even it had its limit and he really didn’t know how long he spent hiding in the forest searching for an opening. Running for your life required a lot of energy, and he was beginning to feel as if he depleted his. 

It was dark in the town but the streets weren’t completely empty and the few scattered faces that he saw did not at all try to hide their blatant staring. 

He knew that he was a spectacle to look at with a height of four feet six inches and blonde hair cut so low that it was nearly scalp. He knew that what drew their attention had to be the mud which covered the pale skin of his still round face, the generic gray of his clothes and the back of his feet. There were also the cuts and wisps of dried blood, which actually didn’t even belong to him, that littered and tied the entire package together. 

He stared back just as intently as they did, a challenge in the deep blue of eyes of ten year old created to be a killer. 

Most looked away, others followed his small frame until he disappeared around the corner than began to whisper. He really didn’t care about that. Not right now anyway. Right now he wanted food. 

He happened upon a house that looked for the most part empty, or it could be that everyone was simply sleeping. The lights were all off and he heard no signs of movement nor did he see any. 

It was located far enough away from the other houses that he felt comfortable that he could get in without being seen and proceeded to do just that. 

He entered through the kitchen window. The poorly made latch standing no chance against his strength as he pulled until the thing broke. Then he was in. Lithe body slipping through the opening and landing crouched closed to the ground with fingers splayed around him. 

Though the house showed evidence that people lived there, there was no signs that they were around now so he moved in search of food. 

From the pantry he pulled anything and everything readily eatable that he could find and placed them on the counter. He found bottles of water at the bottom of the pantry and grabbed some of those too before returning to the stash he made for himself and began pulling off the ones with removable lids. 

He was halfway through some wedges of extremely sweet fruit when he heard movement behind him. His hand stilled on the cup as he turned quickly to meet the potential threat. 

He was facing a boy, a few years older with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows and a wooden bat clenched tightly in his palms. His eyes went from the blonde to the bat a few times before he decided that it wasn’t an actual threat. The boy had too many openings in his stance to actually be quick enough to swing that in hopes of hitting anything. Still, he had survival instincts etched deeply into his brain from the moment he gained comprehension so he couldn’t just turn his back to the boy. Instead he extended his arm to drop the can of yellow fruit into the sink. 

The boy’s eyes followed his movements and then there was confusion on his face. 

“Are you stealing… food?” He asked as though not believing that such a thing was possible. 

He didn’t reply, mostly because the older boy had shuffled a few steps closer and he didn’t want to get distracted from escape routes. 

“You hungry?” The bat lowered a few inches and the older boy stared at him with blue eyes squinting in the darkness in order to see. 

He didn’t have such problems; he could see just fine and decided that it was time to find somewhere else. He stepped back a few steps and hopped on the counter before the boy spoke again. 

“Wait… you don’t have to run, you can eat”. The older blonde had advanced a few more steps and took a look at the counter full of cans before returning his attention with the bat at his sides. “There’s left over pasta, if you want some”

He remembers Manticore’s pasta - stringy noodles that tasted like water, often so pasty that he wondered if they were mushed on purpose. It wasn’t very appetizing but it was filling and right now just about anything sounded good, and the boy really was no threat to him. 

A moment passed between them with the older blonde watching curiously and then he nodded his assent. The other relaxed visibly, a smile on his face as he walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a plastic container. 

“It’s pretty good, you’ll like it. My mom’s awesome” The older blonde spoke mostly in conversation with himself and after placing the container in the microwave seemed to remember a pressing issue. 

His head turned quickly, eyes wide and alert as he stared, “Dude… get your feet off of the counter”. 

The sound of his voice was urgent enough to make the younger boy concede instantaneously and he hopped off but kept close to the sink. 

“aww shit… you have… there’s mud everywhere” The older boy now in obvious distress about this and eyes accusing as he lingered his gaze back to the intruder. 

“uh… I’m sorry?” His voice sounded meek to his ears and almost unrecognizable, he had never been one who spoke much. Preferring instead to be an observer and listener to the people around him but the affronted look in the blue eyes of the older boy wrought the apology out of him. 

“It’s… fine… I guess” The other responded as his eyes softened and he turned away with a sigh, “I’ll clean it.” He finished with a mumble and returned his attention to the microwave to stop it before the alarm went off. 

“Here you go” He held the Tupperware out with a large smile and stuck a fork in the middle of the spaghetti as if this was normal behavior. 

It was jarring to have a stranger be so comfortable in his presence, but he was hungry so he took it with a strong grip as blue eyes narrowed into the older boy’s much warmer ones to search for any signs that this was some sort of trap.

The other simply raised an eyebrow in question and dropped his arms to the side and wondered whether or not to turn the light on and put the bat down. 

*  
“So are you like… a runaway or something?” The older blonde had been staring at him the entire time that he was stuffing spaghetti into his mouth and he thought it was really weird but didn’t feel like it was something that he should point out.

There were more important things than his discomfort at interaction to address, like regaining his strength in case he would need to take off suddenly. 

“Yes.” He replied curtly with a mouth full of food, it was a true enough answer. It was a safe, logical answer. He could carry on a conversation with safe answers. 

“How old are you?” the older blonde asked with too much interest in his tone,

“How old are you?” He fired back quickly. Despite only wanting to keep the boy at ease while he ate, he couldn’t help feeling defensive. It was something of a sensitive nature because people always told him he looked very young because of his face and well, Manticore made him so who’s fault was that? 

“Thirteen” The older blonde replied with a grin on his face that screamed pride at those years.

His face was a little sharper with the lines around his jaw and cheek, he looked enough like someone entering adolescence that he believed him but still… 

“You’re old” He answered just to see the excitement fade from his eyes. He wasn’t always the nicest kid. He was taught to disarm his opponents either physically or with words and he couldn’t turn off instinct. 

“I’m not old, I’m a teenager” The ‘teenager’ answered, his reaction predictable for someone with his mannerisms and he couldn’t help answering again. 

“Soon you’re going to be an old man, than you’re going to die like old people do” He was caught between deliberately wanting to cause harm and simply wanting to jest. His humor was not the best but they didn’t give them much opportunity to watch comedies at the base so he was just going with what felt right - He thought that it had the desired effect when the other frowned and rolled his eyes, an acceptable enough sign of surrender for the circumstances.

_I win_ The words echoed in his mind and brought a smile to his lips between forkfuls. 

“Well you still haven’t told me how old you are, you look like a baby” Previous statement receded, the teenager was crafty. It stung a little. 

“At least I’m not an old man” He countered and stuffed his face full of spaghetti feeling completely justified. He couldn’t remember ever having such a random conversation before, not even with his siblings. 

“Whatever. What’s your name anyway?” 

The question threw him, he paused around his fork full and his gaze lingered as he fought back seven years of conditioning, _‘State your designation soldier’ ‘X5-468 sir!’._

“Raleigh” He replied after a minute of silence passed between them while he collected his thoughts. His sister gave him that name, she pulled it from somewhere, he still had no idea what the significance was but he accepted it because it gave an identity. They would all need names out in the real world to survive and to blend it. She told him to hold onto to it dearly and eventually it’s who he would become. 

“What’s yours?” He asked to fill the silence that began to settle. The older didn’t miss the way that he hesitated and now was watching him with curious eyes that wanted more answers. He couldn’t take that right now. He hasn’t had much time to formulate a good enough lie. 

“Yancy” The other answered with a smile and he silently thanked him for not prying. 

He smiled back because it felt like he should then catalogued the name and face into his memories as ‘Yancy, His first human friend’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I'm terrible with chaptered fics but i told myself I would write this one damn it so that's what I'm doing. Join me for the ride? If you haven't watched Dark Angel you should but It's not required to understand this. first couple of chapters are the brothers as kids. so bear with me. 
> 
> Title from 'What if we could' by Blue October


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible Trigger Warning for mention of suicidal ideation/self-loathing. Note the new tags!  
> here be angst. sorry >.>

002\. yancy becket. 06/2008

They weren’t allowed to leave the house until all of their chores were done. Yancy complained the entire time as if it was a new decree. It wasn’t. 

It’s been five weeks since the Beckets took him in and offered shelter while they sought out more about his past – home, parents, birth certificate, health records, all of those things that he didn’t have because he technically didn’t exist, and it’s been five weeks of not leaving the house until their rooms were clean and the laundry was folded to be put away. 

Five weeks of “this is so lame” and other complaints about the injustice of it of all from the older boy. 

Five weeks of stifling his laughter at the fact that Yancy made it so much worse by drawing it out like he did. 

Raleigh was usually done with his pile before Yancy could even get a quarter of the way through with his. 

Five weeks of ‘I don’t need your help’ whenever he tried to offer his much faster hands to the older boy to lessen his suffering. 

He liked it. All of it. The chores, the arguing and most of all the routine. He couldn’t help feeling lost so very often in a house full of people who knew what it was they were supposed to be doing at any given time. 

Most of his days were spent in the room that he shared with Yancy, reading the books he found scattered around the house to increase his knowledge base and waiting for orders to come his way. 

It’s what he was trained to do and even though he left the compound he couldn’t immediately turn that part of his brain off. He needed routine to feel stable. 

He never complained about chores because it was something useful to do rather than just occupying space. 

Yancy noticed and seemed to make it his mission to change the fact. He worked slowly, always with what he probably perceived as a persuasive argument. It was as if the older boy thought if he complained enough Raleigh would join him and then he would have accomplished something. 

It’s been five weeks of failure and resignation filled with long sighs, low groans and eye rolls. 

“That’s not normal” The older blonde would mutter under his breath, making it obvious that he was displeased that the younger just did what he was told without a fuss. 

If it wasn’t for the fact that he got a degree of satisfaction watching the older boy pout, Raleigh might actually take pity on him and pretend to be bothered. But as it stands, Yancy was more entertaining when he was annoyed so Raleigh would just roll his eyes and focus on the clothes before him. 

“You’re such a baby” he would counter, biting off a smirk at knowing how much the older blonde hated being picked on by someone three years younger than he was. 

He didn’t do it out of cruelty. 

In fact he really liked Yancy. The older was a lot smarter than some of the other boys his age and they’ve fallen into a pattern wherein he pretended not to notice when Raleigh did something out of the norm of typical childlike behavior. 

It has gotten to the point where he had grown comfortable in the boy’s presence and that was why he reacted so violently when the elder snuck up on him. 

He had known the older boy was there but didn’t pay attention to him approaching and so the light feel of fingertips grazing the back of his neck threw him into fight mode and he reacted. 

He spun faster than the human eye could see to grasp the wrist that reached for his neck and _twisted_. He had the arm bent at the elbow, curving painfully and his free hand on the taller boy’s opposite shoulder as he shoved with inhuman strength until they collided harshly with the wooden door. 

“Ahh! Geez Raleigh…” The words were a surprised and pain shout followed by gritting teeth and a deep exhalation. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He doesn’t realize until then that the person he’s pinning is the jovial annoying blonde that took him in and introduce him to his parents. 

His breath is coming out harsh and fast to match his thundering heartbeat as he slowly came back to reality. 

He wasn’t on the mat, the older boy wasn’t his challenge to defeat for the day and he hadn’t been trying to throw him down until all of the air was forcefully expelled from his lungs. 

It was just Yancy, and he was hurting him. 

His fingers uncurled quickly as the thought set in and he stepped backwards away from the older boy. His heart was still pounding and he had to clench his fingers to counter the shock flooding his system. 

He could practically taste the difference in the air as his nose picked up on the stench of sweat and adrenaline. 

“I’m sorry” The words tumbled out before Yancy even turned to face him. His hair was standing on end, the fear mixed with panic tingling his nerves as his body tried to settle after the perceived threat. 

“Jesus” The older boy finally turned. Face red from straining and eyes wide with disbelief and confusion. He was cradling his arm and Raleigh let his eyes wander to the wrist where he dug his fingers and applied all of his strength. It was definitely going to bruise and swell, hopefully it wasn’t broken. 

“I’m sorry” He tried again, surprising himself with how desperate and timid he sounded. He stepped forward and the other stepped back. It wasn’t a big move, merely a shuffle, like flinching but he caught it and froze. 

He felt wetness in his eyes and decided there was absolutely no way he was going to cry. 

“I’m sorry” He repeated, his voice barely a whisper as the other regarded him with eyes that were seeing him for the first time. 

A beat passed. And then two then Yancy was walking away. Disrupting the routine that they have developed and leaving him alone in the laundry room with both piles of clothes. 

He had really liked Yancy, so now what? 

*

The grilled chicken on his plate looked even more morose than he felt. He repeatedly poked it with the fork to antagonize it and wondered whether or not it would choke him if he stuffed it in his mouth. 

He wouldn’t blame it if it did, it wasn’t like he deserved to eat it. 

He was projecting, he knew that but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from his plate because he didn’t want to risk making eye contact with Yancy. 

It’s been the worst day since leaving Manticore and for more than a few hours out of the day he wishes he was back there instead of with this family that he was a danger to and definitely should not be around. 

Why didn’t he just leave? Or rather, why _couldn’t_ he leave.

He tried to, after an hour of hiding in the bathtub in hopes of avoiding Yancy forever but not being able to blink the image of fear and distrust in the older boy’s eyes out of his mind. 

He tried to walk out of the door and turn his back on the Beckets and told himself they were just some random ordinaries but he couldn’t. His feet had brought him right to the bedroom that he shared with Yancy, _stupid, annoying Yancy who thought he was so mature or something,_ and he had just crawled into bed then waited there until he had been called to dinner. 

Why was he even called to dinner? Why haven’t they called for help yet? 

The chicken breast suffered the brunt of his anger and he decided to give it a fighting chance by sticking a large piece into his mouth. 

“Sweetheart, what happened to your arm?” Mrs. Becket was able to sound both concerned and upset and Raleigh swallowed the half chewed piece of chicken as he held his breath. 

“OW…!, don’t touch it!” Yancy replied sounding annoyed and he refused to look up from his plate to see what they were doing. Instead he stopped mocking his food and curled the fork against his palm. It was no longer an instrument for eating and the thought coiled his stomach into a tight ball but his survival instinct was too strong to ignore. 

“How did this happen?” Her words were clipped and he envisioned her examining the arm in the gentle but urgent way that she handled all of his injuries. 

“I fell” Yancy lied, offhandedly and his grip tightened on the fork for different reasons. He didn’t know what it was the older boy was doing or what it was they were planning. He didn’t know why he lied and it made him nervous because he’d already made peace with the fact that he would be made to leave by the end of tonight. 

“You fell?” Mrs. Becket replied, her disbelief evident and he could picture the disappointed look on her face as she saw right through him. 

“Yes I fell” There was rustling as Yancy pulled his arm back and Raleigh felt the tiny pin pricks of moisture gathering at his eyes again. 

“Were you fighting?” She asked and Raleigh stuffed another piece of chicken into his mouth so he didn’t say anything. It tasted horrible and dry and wouldn’t go down the way that he wanted it to. 

“Mom, please. Like anyone would fight me” The older boy replied, all arrogance and nonchalance as he went back to picking at his plate. 

Mrs. Becket scoffed softly and picked up her own fork, “You’re ridiculous” she says with a fondness to her voice that said she didn’t believe him but wasn’t going to prod. 

That was the last straw for him. What the hell was up with these ordinaries? 

His chair scraped across the tiled floor and he dropped his fork turned weapon reluctantly into his plate as four pairs of eyes turned to his direction. He pointedly did not look at Yancy. 

“May I be excused? I don’t feel good.” His words were soft and unsure like the first couple of days with the family before he decided they weren’t undercover MANTICORE soldiers. 

“Is it the chicken, It feels a little overcooked” The way she tried to comfort him through her smile made him feel nauseated and he shook his head no while blinking away the wetness in his eyes. 

“No, I just… don’t feel good” His voice didn’t break as he forced the words and she nodded in a sad sort of way before he ran off and up the stairs. 

He didn’t want her to make her feel bad. He didn’t want Yancy covering for him. He didn’t want to like them as much as he did, or at all but all of those things did happen and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. 

*

Tears ran down his face as he stared blankly at the wall. He’s finally allowed himself to cry now that the room was encompassed in darkness and no one could see him do so. 

His fingers fisted at the sheets and occasionally he would bury his face into the pillow when he felt that he was going to make a sound but other than that his crying was silent. 

His thoughts were on everything and everyone. 

He thought of the Beckets and how _kind_ they were and how easily he let himself become lost in that compassion for a stranger that they knew nothing about. 

They thought he was just some unfortunate victim when really he was a dangerous thing. Not even a person, a thing. 

He shouldn’t be there, he could hurt them. Seriously hurt them. He hurt Yancy. 

He never should’ve left MANTICORE. 

He shouldn’t have listened to his siblings. They’re not even really his siblings. They’re his unit, and he doesn’t even know where they are, or how to find them, or if they’re alive. 

He never should’ve left. What he did today… he needed to be punished. To be locked in the lower ground with the anomalies until he apologized. Or Psy-ops. He needed to go to Psy-OPs and be reprogrammed to not hurt ordinaries. 

He needed to get out of here. He couldn’t survive out here. He never should’ve left. 

Tears streamed faster and the end of his pillow fell between his teeth as he forced his face into it to smother the sound. 

This was weakness. He was weak. 

He should be embarrassed but he couldn’t stop crying. 

“You still awake Raleigh?” Yancy’s voice cut through the deafening silence and he froze with his face buried in the pillow and tears soaking through making his entire face feel wetter. 

“I know you are, you barely ever sleep” The older boy spoke again, his tone confident in the observation that he made. 

He almost answered then, because it wasn’t his fault that he barely slept - MANTICORE made him that way, genetically and conditionally. They had drills at random hours of the day and night to keep always ready on alert. The slightest sound woke him up and it was impossible for him to fall asleep unless his body just crashed from exhaustion.

He kept the words lodge in his throat and let his frustration escape through his tears at the fact that he shouldn’t even exist. 

“I’m sorry I touched your barcode” 

He wanted to say “I’m sorry too” but didn’t want to let the other know that he was crying. Yancy was too nice, _and dumb, and stupid_ , he would probably come down from the second tier bed and hug him or something else equally _ordinary_ and _stupid_ and then Raleigh would really lose it. 

“You can tell me, you know” the words were barely a whisper but Yancy might as well have been yelling since Raleigh heard them anyway. 

“I’m not going to like… judge you or freak out or anything” 

Silence filled the air as the older boy paused in his words to see if they would get any kind of response. Raleigh just buried his face deeper in the pillow as the image of Yancy’s confused, shocked face played before him, and then the way he flinched when he tried to apologize. 

It seemed the older boy was on the same train of thought of him when he spoke again, “Earlier that was… I didn’t know that you were… you just, you moved really fast Raleigh. I didn’t even know what was happening then my arm was twisting and it just surprised me okay,” 

He paused for a long enough time that the younger boy wondered if he was done until he cut through the thick silence with the rest, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I’m sorry” 

The words did nothing to soothe the self-loathing that he felt. It made them worse in fact because he was letting Yancy think that this was something his fault when it wasn’t. He wanted to tell him to stop apologizing and being an idiot and that his arm nearly got torn off today but all he could do was continue sobbing. Yancy was just… so dumb. What was wrong with him, why is he so dumb? He hated Yancy so much. 

“You can trust me, Raleigh” 

He had a mouth full of pillow and curled in on himself tightly and left his back completely exposed when he heard movement on the bed above. 

Yancy would do this thing where he stuck half of his upper body down just to check on him like he actually needed checking on and for the past five weeks Raleigh would threaten to kick him in the face if he didn’t stop but right now he couldn’t do anything other than staying completely still. 

“Rals…” The voice sounded much closer than before and he knows that the older boy was staring at his back while risking falling on his head, “You can trust me okay,” He finished in another whisper that sounded more like a confession. 

He didn’t move until he heard Yancy move back into lying position and then it was to shove his fist against his mouth. 

It was difficult to tell whether he was more hurt because he knew it was true or because he couldn’t even trust himself. 

*

The next few weeks are like starting from the beginning except Yancy is even more touchy, and nice, and stupid, than usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Freaking Becket brothers, /sigh. I think... two more chapters as kids/teens before we jump to shatterdome things.  
> The fact that 10 year old Raleigh is very... mature for his age is due to the fact that he's dealt with things that made him mature? I hope that doesn't seem far-fetched developmentally. 
> 
> Kudos/Comments are nice and make me warm inside :)


End file.
